(Mrs. Bolt, be it observed, had her ear to the keyhole, and lost not a word of the conversation.)
“Don’t you think you could find some girl to come and act as servant for a time?”
“Yes; I could. There’s a girl I used to have sometimes; I think she could come.”
“Then let her be summoned as soon as possible; and, by-the-bye, has Mrs. Bolt been at any expense, do you think?”
“I’m afraid she has for a few things.”
“Very well. If you happen to see her, will you ask her to let me have an account of all such expenses as soon as she can?”
After the meal, Mary went upstairs and fetched the children. They were boys of eight and seven respectively, thin and ill-fed little beings, poorly dressed. Both of them cried as their mother brought them forward; this uncle was in their eyes a most formidable person. Kingcote could not be affectionate with children, but he spoke to them with as much kindness as was at his command. Whilst he was talking with the elder, the other climbed to Mary’s lap and whispered something. Kingcote caught the words “bread and butter.”
“What’s that, Willy?” he asked. “You would like some bread and butter?”
His mother tried to hush it over, but with no effect.
“Mary,” said her brother, “if I go out, will you open the door to me yourself? I will give two raps.”